


You might belong in Gryffindor

by DemonsWithTea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Angst and Humor, F/M, Pottertalia, demonswithtea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-04-21 05:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4816607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonsWithTea/pseuds/DemonsWithTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the 'Pottertalia' series from youtube. Hogwarts is supposed to be a new start for Gilbert, but the Wizarding world is small and sometimes the past doesn't stay behind on the platform when the wheels are in motion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Motion

**Author's Note:**

> Spades here~! I'm still working out how to use Ao3 so please bear with me. 
> 
> This is the first installment of what is probably going to be a mini series about Prussia's first days at Hogwarts. This is part of the youtube series 'Pottertalia' and everything written here is canon to that universe. For all who do watch the series (by Demonswithtea), Prussia will be appearing in the next Pottertalia!
> 
> Enjoy!

It was eleven o’clock when the Hogwarts express rolled out of the station in a fog of hissing steam which drowned out the calls and cries of loved ones. Most waved, smiling with shinning eyes and a quivering lower lip, while others shouted warnings of good behavior (or so help them!) and everywhere younger children weaved between parents, bobbing in and out of sight, chasing the train until, finally, the platform disappeared from view.

Gilbert had found a seat in a carriage with his two best friends easily enough because Roderich’s mother was so concerned about being late that they had arrived almost an hour early, just as the train was pulling in. With great difficulty they had managed to store their trunks on the railings above them, although Gilbert had to stand on his toes to help Roderich, and Elizabeta, who was almost a head shorter than them both kept trying to lift the cases on her own only to stand on Gilbert’s feet and almost drop the luggage on all of them. 

Once their trunks were securely stored, and admittedly it took longer than it should have, they found themselves in the awkward position of having almost forty-five minutes before departure and a teary Mrs. Edelweiss standing at their open window telling them to make sure that they cleaned their cauldrons properly and to eat well. She didn’t want to have to roll her son home at the end of his first year. She’d already had to take the hem down on his school robes and she would not be buying him new underwear if he got too fat for his ‘unterwäsche’!

Elizabeta and Gilbert had tried not to laugh at her serious demeanor, and Roderich was a lovely shade of red and relief when they finally started moving. 

“She treats me like a child,” eleven-year-old Roderich complained with a shake of his head once the station was safely behind them. “I hope no one else heard her, I’m sure she waited until we were in the most public place possible to tell me that.”

“Kesesese.” Gil snickered earning him a knobby elbow to his ribs from Elizabeta who seemed to have more sympathy for Roderich than her friend did.

“My parents would have said something similar if they were able to make it onto the platform,” Elizabeta told him reassuringly. Her parents were non magic folk, or as wizards called them, ‘muggles’, and had been so confused by the passage way that even after trying four times had been unable to walk through the wall onto platform nine and three-quarters. Elizabeta had been forced to say her farewell then and there before breaking into a run and joining her two friends and Mrs. Edelweiss who were waiting for her outside of one of the glossy carriages. 

Gilbert grinned at Roderich whose face was still hot with irritation and was actively attempting to ignore the boy by cleaning his glasses with the dark fabric of his robes. “Besides, everyone was too busy saying bye. I doubt anyone heard her,” she continued.

“Better not get fat Roddy. I’ve seen her patch your unterwäsche before – your crotch is going to look like Frankenstein if she has to make them bigger.”

Roderich crossed his arms with a huff, scowling at his best friend. “Frankenstein was the Doctor. And that’s not funny, Beilschmidt. Why were you looking at my underwear?”

“She leaves it on your bed.”

“I don’t know what you’re laughing at Gilbert,” Elizabeta snapped haughtily, one brow quirked at the fair haired boy. “I’ve seen her patch yours as well.”

“I never asked her to do that!” Gilbert bemoaned, his laughter extinguished immediately. He quickly added, “I threw them out anyway! I can show you, all my underwear is new.”

“I don’t want to see your underwear!”

Roderich sighed at the silliness of it all and checked his pocket watch; it was small and silver with intricate carvings etched onto the casing and his family name engraved on the back. He stuffed it away quickly and said, “We have at least five hours until we reach the castle, I would like to talk about something other than Beilschmidt’s undergarments.”

“We were talking about yours,” Gilbert pointed out, but when neither Elizabeta nor Roderich humored him with a rise he let the subject fall behind them like the platform had done. 

The train began to head out towards the countryside, zipping past acres of green land, over bridges and through tunnels which cast the carriages into darkness before blinding them again, filling the entire room with warm, summery light. Gilbert opened the window a fraction and removed his shoes so that he could fold his feet beneath his legs on the red, cushioned seats. When Roderich stood up to try to pull down his trunk again Elizabeta scolded him. 

“We have all year to study, I want to talk to you before school starts.”

“We have all year to talk, I would like to study before my classes. I have no intention of falling behind.” Somehow, Gilbert thought that was a direct stab at him. 

“But we might not be placed in the same house! Who knows how often we will see each other.” She insisted, earning an overly dramatic sigh from the brunet boy who ceased his shuffling and forced his trunk back. 

She smiled delightedly when he sat back down across from them, ignoring the way that Roderich glared at a smirking Gilbert who didn’t even have to open his mouth to tease him. ‘Na na. You just got told off by Eli,’ he heard Gilbert silently say and did his best to focus on Elizabeta who had pulled out a packet of cards and was dealing them out, placing seven cards down next to Gilbert, then next to Roderich then in her own lap.

“What are we playing?” Roderich asked, never all that impressed by muggle games but willing to indulge her after she had defended him and his underwear.

“We don’t have a table… so, go fish. Gil, do you remember how to play?”

“Of course I do.” He lied. Coming from a pure blood line, Gilbert didn’t often play muggle games. In fact, Elizabeta was the first muggle born friend he had ever made, and he had only met her through Roderich who was her neighbor and a half blood.

“Excellent!” She said cheerfully, a wide smile pulling on her cheeks. “Roderich, do you have any fives?”

“Go fish.”

“Do you really think we won’t be placed in the same house?” Gilbert asked Elizabeta, cutting in as Roderich was about to ask him if he had any tens. 

She shrugged her thin shoulders, tipping her head to the side without taking her eyes off her fanned cards. “No… I don’t think so.”

“Which house do you think you’ll be placed in?” Gilbert asked, and then with a grin that threatened to split his face said loudly, “wait, which house do you think I’ll be put in?”

Elizabeta looked like she would rather not answer, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Roderich will probably be placed in Ravenclaw though. He seems like a Ravenclaw, doesn’t he?”

“As long as it’s not Slytherin,” Roderich began, “It doesn’t matter where I’m put.”

This comment was followed by a moment of shocked silence, Gilbert and Elizabeta tensed and Roderich looked up from his cards again in confusion.

“Gilbert’s parents were in Slytherin.” Elizabeta said quickly in the sort of good humored tone people use when making light of a horrible subject. “I don’t think it’s such a bad house.”

Gilbert’s smile was gone without a trace and his white eyebrows were burrowed so fiercely it looked as though they might get knotted in the middle. “Yeah, Edelweiss, what’s wrong with Slytherin?”

“Nothing.” Roderich said in a tone of false confidence, like he could easily right this misunderstanding by standing by his statement. “They’re not all bad, they just have a reputation. I doubt you’ll end up there either, Gilbert.” He said reassuringly, almost sounding bored by the conversation. He looked down at his hand again, shuffling two cards over. “Any tens?”

“Roderich.” Elizabeta cringed and Gilbert leant over, slapping the cards out of his hand. “Gilbert!”

Roderich puffed out his chest, glaring back in a defiance that contradicted his posture which was pushed back into the seat, arms crossed and tense.

“My dad’s a doctor and he came out of Slytherin!”

“Your mum did too and she’s in Azkaban.”

“Don’t talk about my mum!”

“Boys! Enough! There’s no such thing as a bad house! Gilbert-!”

“You think I’ll end up there too, don’t you Elizabeta?” Gilbert turned to her with a snarl. She opened her mouth to shout at him to sit down and behave before a prefect heard them, when she saw something in his eyes. He looked angry, too angry – almost desperately angry. Like it was something he was holding onto. But, having known him for almost five years, she could see beneath that. Gilbert’s nostrils were flared and his eyes were glazed over and Elizabeta remembered the last time she’d seen him like this. 

His dad had yelled at him in front of her once after he’d found out that Gilbert had taken his broom out to show her in the yard. Gilbert had looked angry, even pretended for a while that he was furious with his dad, but really he had been upset that he had been caught and scared of the punishment that would follow once she was gone.

That was the same look, the same glassy eyes and heavy breathing that she had been just as helpless to fix then as she was now. “I don’t think that.” She said firmly, a tentative hand reaching out, waiting for Gilbert to push her away like a wounded animal. When he didn’t she breached the distance, her strong hand like an anchor, pulling him down to sit beside her again. “And even if you are then it doesn’t matter.”

Roderich sighed, “Gilbert, listen-.”

“I’m going to find Kohler.” He stood again quickly, eyes deliberately avoiding Elizabeta’s as he exited the carriage, slamming the door shut and leaving his black sneakers on the ground next to where Roderich’s cards lay scattered.


	2. Crystal Clear

Gilbert didn’t speak to Elizabeta or Roderich for the rest of the journey. 

Mathias hadn’t asked why he wanted to sit with him so suddenly, and Gilbert was not about to volunteer that information. There was something comforting about the Dane’s energy, always upbeat and laughing about something or other. Mathias could be draining, but Gilbert found it impossible to be upset when around him. Right now, his company was exactly what he needed. So were the shoes, which he offered to lend him when he noticed that Gilbert seemed to have misplaced his. He didn’t seem all too surprised, and confessed that the same thing happened to him every once in a while. 

“Last time I lost them in a Pyramid in Egypt and had to walk back across the sand in the middle of summer to get to the portkey.” He told him grimly. 

Once the train pulled into the station he followed Mat and another tall, if slightly intimidating, blonde to the boats which they were instructed to climb into by a man who could be described in a word as ‘gigantic’. 

As they scuttled around the bend and down a narrow path, Gilbert was certain that he heard his name whispered by one of the students. Then another, then another until a chorus of whispers buzzed around the group between verses of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ as they beheld the castle for the first time. Every time he turned in the direction of one of the voices no one was staring, in fact, no one was looking at him at all. He got the distinct impression that they were deliberately avoiding his stare. 

He climbed into the boat with Mathias and the scary blonde and a moment later they were joined by another student. She had glossy, copper hair which bounced on her shoulders and she wore a green headband to keep it back. Her smile was close-lipped but wide and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. 

“Hello boys, lovely night,” she said cheerfully, crossing her ankles and sitting down next to Gilbert. “I’m Emma Abel.”

“Hi!” Mathias answered immediately and far too enthusiastically. “I’m Mat.”

“Berwald Oxenstierna.” Berwald contributed in an accent that Gilbert struggled to understand.

“That’s a mouthful.”

“Berwald is fine.”

“Okay! And you?”

“The one and only Gilbert Beilschmidt.” Gil managed a rather cocky smile and held out a hand to her. 

Emma took it without hesitation, green eyes alight suddenly. “Oh! You’re the one Vash was talking about. I like your eyes.”

The smile fell from his face suddenly and even Mathias looked struck with surprise. Berwald looked between them, eyebrows drawn together in what was probably confusion but looked more like a glare. This was his first time meeting Gilbert, and as far as he could tell the boy was loud and slightly obnoxious, but certainly not worth talking about to other students. 

Gilbert dropped his hand from hers, refusing to look over at Mathias who bit the corner of his mouth before grinning from ear to ear. He dropped his hand into the inky black lake and scooped up a handful of the water, splashing Gilbert. Emma giggled, lifting her hands up to shield her face, sacrificing her arm in the process. 

“Oi!” Gilbert snapped, but a smile twitched in the corner of his mouth and he leant down, sending a small wave of water in Mathias’ direction. The boat rocked as Emma joined in, splashing Berwald who looked anything but amused and was certainly glaring this time, only to dip his own hand down and send water raining down on both Gilbert and Emma who were laughing loudly and earned stares from just about every other boat. 

“That’s enough you lot!” The humongous man shouted gruffly from behind a bushy, black beard. “All in?” He called out from his own boat, “Right then – Forward!” 

With the slightest jerk the boats all moved, cutting across the water like a knife through warm butter. They glided smoothly over towards the sandstone castle with its colourful windows and endless towers. 

The water on the bottom of the boat seemed to be absorbed through the wood beneath their feet, making the bottom dry once more while leaving the four of them wet but smiling. Well, all except Berwald, but even he looked less stern than usual.

“What house were you hoping to be in?” Emma asked Gilbert who shrugged with a sigh and let his eyes lift to the castle looming ahead, tall and gleaming like something out of legend. 

“Not Slytherin,” he admitted, safely out of ear shot of Roderich and Elizabeta. 

Emma’s eyebrows arched up beneath her bangs, and her eyes grew a little bit wider. “What’s wrong with Slytherin?”

“They’re in the dungeons.” Mathias said simply, and Gilbert snorted a laugh because honestly that would be Mathias’ sole problem with that house. The only thing he hated more than the cold was being underground without a clear view of the sky. 

“Not a witch or wizard went bad that wasn’t in Slytherin,” Gilbert quoted the infamous saying and now it was Emma’s turn to look confused.

She threaded her fingers through her hair and brushed it back, combing the damp locks. Once it was neatly behind her she adjusted a silver chain around her neck so that the clasp was hidden; from it hung a large, purple stone which was embedded in silver and cut into a circular shape. It picked up the light reflected off the water and threw it back, glittering against the black of her robes.

“Well, my brother is in Slytherin and he isn’t bad. I’ll be really happy if I’m put there. Lars and I don’t get to see each other all that much because I live with my dad and he lives with mum. It’d be nice to at least spend more time with him at school.”

“That’s really nice. I hope you get put there then,” Mathias said, smiling warmly and Berwald nodded twice in agreement, expression unchanging.

Gilbert was not convinced, staring at Emma like she had just grown another head as she continued, “Anyway, it’s just a house. If you’re going to let a hat tell you who you’re going to be then you can’t think much of who you are.” 

“What hat?” Mathias asked.

“The sorting hat, Mathias.” Said Berwald with a hint of what was probably exasperation.

“What? A hat tells us what house we’re going to be in? I thought the Dumbledore did that!”

“No, it’s a hat.” 

Gilbert looked down at his knees. There was a funny aching inside of him, somewhere between sadness and amusement. It was clear that people expected the worst of him, even Roderich to some extent. He didn’t need a hat to tell him that there was darkness inside of him. Everyone was already saying that. 

A warm hand suddenly touched his and Gilbert looked at Emma. He hadn’t realized just how tightly his fist was curled, but relaxed it under hers. She was smiling up at the castle but her left hand played absently with the shinning pendant around her neck. “You can borrow this if you like.” She said, pulling the chain over her head and flipping his hand over. 

“Why would I want a girly necklace?” He asked, as she lowered the silver chain which coiled in his palm like a snake.

“Because it’s amethyst.” Gilbert looked apathetically at her, so Emma continued. “Like the Greek myth about the girl who became amethyst. I like her story, it’s about purity and resolve. I think it will help you be yourself.”

Gilbert’s fingers curled around the pendant, the silver cold against his palm. “Pfft.” He snickered, shoulders trembling with supressed laughter at the silliness of the conversation.

“What just happened?” Mathias asked, having been lost in his own conversation with Berwald regarding the hat; whether it talked, how big it was and if it hurt to wear it.

“Nothing,” Emma said quickly as Gilbert pocketed the necklace, unseen by the two boys staring quizzically at them. “I was just saying that I think my robes are drying. I don’t fancy making my first impression in front of the whole school wet.”

And with that declaration Gilbert splashed her again, causing all out watery warfare to break out on their boat.

For the first time Gilbert thought that maybe being in Slytherin wouldn’t be so bad. Or, that is to say: being in Slytherin wouldn’t make him bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorting happens in the next chapter! Hopefully we will get to film with our Prussia soon~!


	3. You Might Belong in Gryffindor

The first years gathered outside an enormous set of double doors, swaying on their toes to try and see ahead of them and whispering in trembling voices. Before them stood a witch with an expression so stern it made Berwald look positively friendly in comparison. She wore dark, emerald robes and her black hair was tied back in a neat bun, not a strand out of place. 

She approached them, head held high and green eyes scanning the cluster of jittery boys and girls. Her gaze lingered on the four standing to the side, shivering in their sopping clothes, and before even addressing the group of them she clicked her tongue with a sort of exasperated, disapproving look that could wither venomous tentacula. 

With a flick of her wrist she withdrew her wand and held it up, pointing at the four who looked stunned and horrified by the gesture. “Exaresco,” The witch said and instantly their robes dried, warm air like steam surrounding them until there wasn’t a trace of wetness left. They relaxed, running their hands over their robes experimentally with a mixture of relief and amazement as she stored her wand again. 

Facing the now silent group she extended her arms, “Welcome to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said. “The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seat you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting ceremony is an important rite of passage because while you are here your house will be something like your family. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your dormitory and spend free time in your house common-room. Your triumphs will earn your house points, but any mischief or rule breaking will lose you points. At the end of the year the house with the most points will win the house cup, a great honour I assure you.”

“Now, the four houses are as follows: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble, unique history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. It is my wish that each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.”

“We will begin shortly, I suggest you use this time to smarten yourselves up.” Her eyes seemed to linger on the four to the left as she said this. “I will return when we are ready for you.”

Emma fixed her headband self-consciously and Mathias ran a hand through his untidy hair, no longer defying gravity but limply flattened against his face. 

“Gilbert,” he heard his name hissed and instinctively turned to the voice which belonged to Elizabeta. She looked concerned, if perhaps a little angry. “I’m sorry for what happened on the train,” she said quietly, a comment which was met with uncertain looks from Mathias and Emma.

“What happened on the train?” Mathias asked, perhaps a little too brightly.

“It’s fine,” Gilbert promised, one hand absently dropping into his pocket, fingering the amethyst pendant. “Edelweiss was being a dick,” he told Mathias who considered this for a moment then shrugged as if to say ‘fair enough’.

Elizabeta smiled, but it seemed more relieved than anything else, and the way her lips were pressed together made Gilbert think that she had more to say. “What?” He prompted her and she stepped forward, arms raised slightly, as if she was about to hug him. But then she dropped them, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow, even if we aren’t in the same house.”

“You miss me already, do you?” He grinned, earning a huff and a shove from Eli who he suspected was not nearly as annoyed as she pretended to be. 

“Promise?”

“Sure.”

“And you’ll talk to Roderich?” Gilbert’s expression soured at that and Elizabeta, who had looked hopeful for a moment, scowled. 

Before either of them could speak Professor McGonagall reappeared and told them to form a line. Immediately she began to lead them through the hall, and what a sight that was.

The stars winked down at them from the dark ceiling-sky and thousands of small, white candles were floating overhead, illuminating the hall in warm light. There were four tables where hundreds of young wizards sat before large, empty plates made of silver and gold. Their eyes followed the first years and everywhere Gilbert looked he was met with a smile, a wink or words of welcome mouthed at him. 

There was another long table at the front of the hall where the professors sat, beaming at them while still managing to look intimidating. Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool before them and, to their dismay, in front of the rest of the school. On top of it she placed a great, dirty wizard hat which looked as though it was falling apart at the seams. Gilbert doubted that even Mrs. Edelweiss would have attempted to salvage the patched up remains of what he knew to be the ‘Sorting Hat’. 

There were many confused looks passed between the first years and from somewhere behind him Gilbert heard Mathias exclaim excitedly, “it really is a hat!” Then a rip near the brim flapped open like a mouth and it did something completely unexpected - the hat began to sing.

 

Since times of old, when old was new  
Wizards have known this hall.  
And since those times, when old was new,  
I have sorted them all.

My charge is to divide  
Brave, clever, cunning or kind,  
So put me on and I will tell you  
What I see inside your mind.

Do you belong in Gryffindor   
Where bravery is measured?  
Or perhaps, in wise old Ravenclaw  
Where knowledge is truly treasured?

Will you find friends in Slytherin,  
Where cunning folk do dwell?  
Or will Hufflepuff be the place  
Where kindness finds you well?

I ask you this because you know  
Yourself in every part.  
Be strong in your convictions,   
Know your mind and know your heart.

Your houses may divide you,  
But Hogwarts we still share.  
For when we aren’t united,  
We fall into despair.

I ask you all to remember this  
As you begin this year.  
Do not repeat our past mistakes,  
Or bring new evils here. 

Now that I have said my piece  
I think it’s time to start.  
Before I do, I will repeat,  
Know your mind and know your heart.

The hat fell silent, the cloth mouth closing once more as the hall filled with an echoing applause and cheers from every direction.

“When I call your name, you will put the hat on your head and sit on the stool to be sorted,” Professor McGonagall called over the noise, unwinding a piece of parchment and adjusting a pair of square shaped glasses on her nose.

“Abel, Emma.” 

Emma almost seemed to bounce over to the chair, smiling and waving towards the Slytherin table where a tall, handsome boy with a long face was sitting with his back straight, watching her intensely. The hat cracked open again, letting out a laugh. 

“Slytherin? No, not Slytherin… So much kindness and a desire to help all you meet. Such a good heart. I have no doubt about you, HUFFLEPUFF!” The hat shouted and the table to the right applauded Emma who hopped down, still smiling but with a sigh that suggested that she knew all along just where she would end up. 

The Slytherin boy watched her until she had taken her place next to one of her new housemates. Although he wore a stoic expression, he slouched back in his seat, visibly deflated by the news and turned back to his table with an apparent lack of interest in the other students about to be sorted.

Before the room was quiet again McGonagall read out the next name, “Beilschmidt, Gilbert.” 

Gilbert’s heart lurched in his chest and his legs felt like lead. The room had barely had a chance to get excited over the first sorting before his name was being hissed like thousands of snakes and heads were bobbing up and down along the tables, all following him curiously as he made his way to the front. 

He knew what they expected the hat to say and when it covered his head he shut his eyes, fingers curling around the piece of amethyst hidden in his pocket. It felt like the spinning of a coin, the entire room holding its breath and waiting for it to fall. Heads or tails. Good or evil.

“Ah, now here’s an interesting one. I see bravery, an abundance of that, but there’s so much ambition. Loyalty, yes… and passion. Just like your father before you…. Like your mother too.” 

More interested murmurs filled the hall at that and he felt his cheeks heat up. “I’m not.” He whispered acidly and the hat chuckled, softly this time as if only meant for him to hear. 

“That’s good. Very good…” It hummed like an afterthought, opening its makeshift mouth wide with its decision. 

The room held its breath as the coin dropped. Gilbert screwed his eyes shut again, he knew what came next, he just didn’t expect a single clap when the hat announced to Hogwarts School, “SLYTHERIN!”

But the Slytherin table applauded, the Hufflepuffs too and then the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors began to tentatively clap as Professor McGonagall withdrew the hat so that Gilbert could take his seat. His legs were shaking, unable to register that he was moving until he was seated at the table, patted on the back and surrounded by endless hands, extended at him with words of welcome and congratulations.

“Well done, mate.” Came the accented voice of a red haired third year who was sitting next to him. He was scrawny, with fair skin and startling green eyes. “First Slytherin of the year! I’m Allistor Kirkland.” Gilbert took his hand and shook it firmly as Jeremy Eves was sorted into Ravenclaw. He recognized the name Kirkland and was about to ask if he knew another boy about his age named Arthur, but Allistor continued. 

“Do you play quidditch? I’m a beater on the team, lookin’ to make captain when Liana’s out next year.”

Allistor was nudged rather violently by the tall boy beside him who pointed to the front as if to say ‘pay attention’. “Oh shove off Lars,” he snapped and another Slytherin first year joined their table. “Anyway, Slytherins look after their own. If you need anything, just ask me or any of the boys.”

Gilbert nodded, receiving a couple more smiles and even a high five from a girl sitting a few seats down from him. There was something comforting, if knowing, about Allistor’s words. He certainly knew about Gilbert’s family, because the greetings he gave the other students who joined them was very different, almost lacking the interest and warmth he had just shown Gil. 

He barely heard the voice of the hat as it sorted Elizabeta into Gryffindor and Roderich into Ravenclaw. It suddenly didn’t seem to matter that he knew no one around him, or that he was still being thrown cautious looks from every other part of the room. The moment Gilbert sat down it was like a weight was lifted from him, and despite the anxiety this table had always caused him, it instantly felt like home.

You might belong in Slytherin, he mused to himself as the plates before them filled with endless sweets, bottomless bowls of soup and the juiciest meats he had ever seen.


End file.
